


Lets (Not) Kiss

by TheSinsOfAnAngel



Series: After The Fact [3]
Category: Chess - Rice/Ulvaeus/Andersson
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Awkwardness, Chess in Concert (2008), First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Kennedy Center Chess (2018), M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, but there isnt a 3+1 tag, except it's actually only three times, i hope yall didn't miss me too much, the angst is rlly brief btw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-26
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24924793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSinsOfAnAngel/pseuds/TheSinsOfAnAngel
Summary: Three times Anatoly didn't kiss Freddie, and one time he did.--------OR: The one where everyone is emotionally stunted.
Relationships: Anatoly Sergievsky/Frederick Trumper
Series: After The Fact [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1425700
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Lets (Not) Kiss

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to read some F/A works, and what did I see, but my very own fanfiction staring back at me! Well that wont do, and you know what they say: If you want something done, you have to do it yourself. 
> 
> Welcome back y'all, tonight I'm giving you something sweet. If this isn't your thing I'm sorry, but I do have something a little angsty in the works.

**In the kitchen**

They didn't live together, but they might as well. 

Anatoly’s house was full of tacky clothes he didn’t wear, and mugs he didn’t drink out of, and reeked of cologne he didn’t wear. He took over the space, so much so that Anatoly had a hard time finding his own stuff  _ (like his own favourite mug that has somehow gone missing). _ If he was being honest  _ (something he was trying to do more these days)  _ he didn’t actually mind all that much. Freddie’s continued presence even if he wasn't in the room was comforting, despite the heavy air that was surrounding them these days. 

He knew why it was like that, knew that he was the problem, but Anatoly couldn’t bring himself to take that step. 

Being with Freddie was like being with the sun, Anatoly decided. Necessary for living but also treacherous and lethal.  _ (God, when did he get so cheesy?)  _ When Freddie stepped forward, Anatoly took five steps back. Literally. 

Currently, Anatoly was reliving in horror the event that had just occurred in the kitchen that prompted this line of thought. 

They had just finished dinner, and there was a pot of coffee quietly dripping on the counter. It was quiet, and for a rare moment, neither of them had felt like anything was weighing on them. No confessions to make  _ (they had already been said),  _ no lingering anger, just quiet. 

Of course, Frederick Trumper has never in his life been able to keep the peace. 

He was leaning his left hip on the kitchen island and shifted slightly before saying, “I’d really like to kiss you, you know,” all casual like that wasn’t something that would officially make them cross the line out of wherever they were into full blown relationship territory. The thought of them becoming official  _ (Going steady? What was it called these days?) _ was slightly terrifying, but he couldn’t figure out why. Anatoly had been married once, for God’s sake, why couldn’t he handle something like this? Freddie having to nervously approach the subject like he was afraid he would hurt somebody just made Anatoly feel worse because nobody would have to be nervous if he wasn’t so inept at doing normal human things-

‘Tolya?” Freddie pushed himself off of the counter and approached slowly, but Anatoly was off in his own world, overthinking everything. By the time he noticed somebody was close to him, he had worked himself up too much to respond. Freddie placed a hand on his shoulder and he flinched instinctively, taking a few steps backwards. 

Well, that was something they hadn’t had to deal with in a long time.

Nobody moved, Freddie’s hand still hung in the air as a reminder of the wall Anatoly had put firmly back up.  _ (Not that he wanted to put it back up, it was just...complicated).  _

He dropped his arm and muttered something about  _ ‘knowing better’  _ before walking out of the kitchen and leaving the house entirely. Feeling uncomfortably like something dangerous just passed, Anatoly let out a shuddering breath and started to put the dishes away. He wasn’t scared that Freddie wouldn’t come back  _ (he always finds his way back to Anatoly),  _ he was just scared of the discussion that would take place when he did. 

But that was for the future to worry about. 

**On the Patio**

There was no discussion. Freddie knocked on his door a few days later with take-out and a smile. They had both apparently decided that they would just forget about the whole ordeal and move on. This was highly suspicious, because Freddie never just ‘moved on’. But Anatoly was grateful for the relief of not having to explain himself, so he took the little victory and pinned his worries away for later. 

Weeks later, and still nothing had come up. Anatoly had all but forgotten about it when the next incident happened. 

It was one of the first hot days of the summer season, a sweltering 29°C, and Freddie showed up with a six pack and two folded lawn chairs. Anatoly laughed at the sight, “what are we, 45 year old dads?” Freddie just rolled his eyes fondly. 

“I figured we could go sit on your patio and enjoy the sun, but if you’re going to be judgemental I will take my free beer and leave.”

“Shut up and go around back, I don’t need you dragging the chairs on my tile and ruining the finish.”

“Who sounds like a dad now?”

It was oddly domestic for them to talk like this with no underlying bite to their words, but Anatoly was slowly getting used to it.  _ (Likely, Freddie was completely used to it, and Anatoly was dragging behind like always.)  _ They set up the chairs beside each other with the drinks in the middle and Freddie slipped on some sunglasses he had hanging from his shirt collar. When he pulled them out Anatoly couldn’t help but stare at the tiny peek of chest that was exposed, but he quickly looked away at the sound of a can being cracked open and Freddie’s quiet, teasing laugh.  _ (He could at least pretend to not notice).  _

Anatoly didn’t drink very often, and when he did it wasn’t usually beer, but he decided to humour his...

He decided to humour Freddie this one time and without really looking where he was reaching, he went to grab a can. His hand stopped at a solid object but it wasn’t cold metal he was touching, rather, it was warm skin. Anatoly looked up to see Freddies wide eyes just barely visible underneath the dark lenses and once again, just like the last time, they were frozen. 

“Um-”

“I-”

They both started to speak over another, Freddie laughed awkwardly.  _ (Could this be any more cliche?)  _ Anatoly tried to steel himself this time. What happened next was going to happen and he wouldn’t run away or ruin the moment with his nonsense. 

Is what he told himself before noticing the foam. Freddie immediately noticed Anatoly’s eyes straying to his face and he raised an eyebrow. 

“Is there a problem?” He asked, annoyance barely visible in his voice. 

Anatoly was desperately trying to hold back laughter, not only at the foam on Freddie’s cheek but at the whole damn situation. It was ridiculous, and the moment was completely ruined.

“No, no problem it’s just there’s something on your face and I..well, I got distracted.” 

“Uh huh, distracted. Got it,” Freddie wiped away the foam on his face and leaned back into his chair. If it was ever possible to pout while taking a drink, Freddie was the poster boy of it because he looked downright petulant. Anatoly finally grabbed a can and sat back himself. They lapsed back into comfortable silence  _ (they couldn’t be uncomfortable if they tried, not after everything)  _ and Anatoly inwardly flung himself off of a cliff. 

What was his problem?

**Around the Corner**

Apparently his problem was that the whole universe was slated against him.

Three days after their little backyard episode, Freddie was back in Anatoly's house, flipping through channels while taking over the entire couch. The latter man was doing a load of emergency laundry that needed to be done after Freddie managed to get pasta sauce all over Anatoly's good towel.  _ (“It’s your fault for having a decorative towel, I mean seriously who else do you know that has one?” He didn't think that the answer “My mother” was good enough.)  _

He was humming some new American pop anthem while the washer rushed with water, using this opportunity to fold the clothes he had left in the dryer. The TV rumbled quietly in the background and Anatoly was struck once again with a strong feeling of domesticity. He didn’t consider himself completely emotionally stunted, but Anatoly still couldn’t believe that this was just what they did now. They were together almost constantly, and they were comfortable enough around each other to be on opposite ends of a house while still feeling content with the company they shared. 

With the laundry folded and time to kill until the washer was done, Anatoly began his way back to the living room. He turned the corner and was met with a solid wall and an “oof!”. Instinctively he reached his hand out and grabbed Freddie before he could fall. This put them in a precarious position, as they were now chest to chest with their noses almost touching. Anatoly was filled with a sickening sense of deja-vu as the silence lingered on, neither able to break the ice. 

No, this time was going to be different. Anatoly was determined to meet Freddie in the middle for this one. The first incident was botched due to his emotional trauma, the second incident was ruined due to his stupid attention to detail, this time he was just going to lean in and-

And the phone rang. 

“Jesus  _ Christ! _ ” Anatoly threw his arms up in the air and pushed past Freddie to go get the phone. Freddie was left standing there stunned, completely confused as to what just happened. He heard the phone being slammed down onto the receiver and turned the corner to see Anatoly pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Did we-?”

“No, we didn’t,” Anatoly interrupted, and sighed with frustration, “I don’t know why I even picked up, it was just a telemarketer.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” Freddie answered back quickly. If Anatoly was good at ignoring the subject, Freddie was the best at pretending it never happened, “I found a movie starting soon on channel five, if you're interested.”

They spent the rest of the evening watching TV, and the incident blew over. But it wasn’t forgotten, not by either party. 

  
  


**In the (Other) Kitchen**

They didn’t live together, and Freddie's house showcased that very clearly. 

There were no traces that anyone else had ever been inside. There were no forgotten t-shirts, no random gifts, and there were certainly no cosmetics lining the bathroom sink. Anatoly was particularly attached to his colognes, and he saw no need to leave them somewhere he couldn’t easily access them. 

If Freddie minded, he didn’t say anything.  _ (They were particularly good at doing that.)  _ They were hardly at his place anyways, so it wasn’t like there were any chances for him to dwell on it very often. Or, that’s what Anatoly told himself. 

It was a similar scene to the very first incident. They had just finished dinner and there was a pot of coffee brewing next to them while they waited. Freddie was leaned against the counter and Anatoly was faced away from him, opening the sugar. 

“Hey, grab the mugs, will you? Top cupboard above the stove.”

He hummed back as an answer and reached up to open the cupboard door, when Freddie suddenly gasped and lunged across the room to slam it back shut. 

Anatoly blinked. Freddie didn’t look at him, and it was obvious that he was hiding something behind that door. Anatoly was very curious as to what it was. 

“You can’t keep your hand there forever.”

“I’m very good at holding out, you know this.”

“Freddie,” Anatoly’s voice was firm, “open the cupboard.”

“Promise you won’t be mad.”

“You’re acting like a child, just let me see.”  _ (There’s nothing he could do to make Anatoly mad anymore, certainly not anything that could hide in a cupboard.) _

Freddie removed his splayed hand from the wood and Anatoly opened the cupboard to see, well, cups. There was nothing out of the ordinary at first glance. 

At second glance, he saw it. His own mug that had been lost for at least two months. He picked it up and slipped his fingers through the handle. 

“Why do you have this?”

Freddie began to stammer through an explanation, “Well, I just, y’know...hey  _ you’re  _ one to talk! You have a ton of my stuff in your house, you can’t judge me for one little mug…” He trailed off, not believing his own words. There was still something behind them. 

“Freddie?” 

“Okay, look. I just wanted something of yours to keep around the house...for when you’re gone. I dunno, I know it’s stupid but I miss you. Especially when you run off for weeks at a time, doing God knows what.” 

Anatoly did have a tendency to leave when things got too stressful. It was obvious when you looked back at his life. Nobody had ever seemed to care when he left, though.  _ (Well, maybe his wife did.)  _ Not until Freddie. He looked up at said man whose eyes were anywhere but on Anatoly, and his lips quirked up. His fingers slipped out of the handle and he placed the mug down, replacing it in his hand with Freddie’s left cheek. No hesitation this time, Anatoly leaned in and pressed their lips together. 

It was short and sweet, and when it was over Freddie looked like he was going to die from relief.  _ (Finally.)  _

Anatoly pulled away slightly and Freddie laughed, “What was that for?” 

“You stole my mug that’s--nobody does stuff like that but you do and I like that you do so I had to tell you.” He struggled to get the words out. 

“I’ve never heard you so ineloquent before, it’s kind of adorable.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Anatoly leaned back into Freddies laughing mouth. Now that he had done it the first time he never wanted to stop kissing him, not like Freddie would ever make him stop. 

For the first time since their weird relationship started, things had fallen right into place. 

**Author's Note:**

> i hope yall enjoyed this sickeningly sweet fic. i had fun writing it lmao. 
> 
> also, if you're reading this and you've read the last two chess fics i posted can you let me know if you prefer the double spacing or the way the lines are spaced in this one? i only did one line of spacing this time because i cant tell which one i prefer. anyways tysm for reading!!


End file.
